


Coming Undone

by tablelamp



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, But Everything Turns Out All Right, Case Fic, M/M, mortal danger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 09:17:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19742695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/pseuds/tablelamp
Summary: Robbie knew all too well what bad luck was.  Bad luck was going after a dreamshifter on your own, without backup.  Bad luck was being in the middle of nowhere, with no one to hear if you called for help.Worse luck was if the shifter caught you.





	1. Chapter 1

Robbie knew all too well what bad luck was. Bad luck was going after a dreamshifter you suspected of murder on your own, without backup. Bad luck was being in the middle of nowhere, with no one to hear if you called for help. 

Worse luck was if the shifter caught you.

He didn't remember much about the details of what happened. He knew he'd run into the abandoned house after the bloke, and he dimly remembered catching his leg on something, or maybe someone, and falling. He might've hit his head. It was aching a bit. When Robbie opened his eyes, he was rewarded with the sight of what looked like it had once been a living room, though there was no furniture in front of him and the thin layer of dirt over everything showed most of the room hadn't been disturbed for quite some time. No one lived here now. Robbie was sitting on a deeply uncomfortable wooden chair, and a quick tug of his wrists confirmed that his hands were tied behind him, the rope tangled in the back slats of the chair. His ankles seemed to be tied to the legs of the chair too, so he couldn't stand up and rush out of the house with a chair tied to his back. He had a pocket knife, but since it was in his pocket and nowhere near his hands, it wasn't going to do him much good.

"Hello!"

Wait. Was that? No, it couldn't be.

But it was, because James came crashing through the door a few moments later. "Are you all right?"

It hadn't occurred to Robbie to check before, but he gave himself a look. Other than scrapes on his hands from falling, he didn't seem to be hurt. "I'm in one piece. He might still be here, James. Be careful."

James completely ignored what he'd said--bloody typical--and hurried to examine Robbie himself. "You must've been unconscious if he tied you up."

"I fell," Robbie said. "Can't remember why."

James looked around the room. "He's tied them too tight for me to pick apart, but if there's something sharp--"

"I've got a pocket knife in me left-hand pocket," Robbie said. "Might take a day or two but it's better than nothing."

James nodded, then hesitated. "I'm sorry. I'll have to put my hand in your pocket. Is that--?"

"Go on," Robbie said. He tried to hold still as James's hand slipped into his pocket, attempting not to notice the brush of James's fingers against his leg through the thin fabric. He'd always rather admired James's hands.

"Got it," James said, holding it up triumphantly. "Ankles or hands first?"

"Ankles please," Robbie said. "Then I can run if I have to."

James knelt before Robbie, glancing at the door and then at him. "You think he'll be back?"

"He might," Robbie said. "Why tie me up if he meant to leave me alone?"

James was sawing at the rope around Robbie's left ankle now, and yeah, it was going to take longer than Robbie would've liked. "Maybe he tried to escape?"

Robbie nodded. "Maybe. Suppose he could've killed me while I was out, if he'd wanted to." He couldn't quite restrain a shudder.

James stopped sawing, looking up. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"Protect yourself first," Robbie said. "Then worry about me."

"I do."

"You do what?"

"Worry about you." James had gone back to the rope, and was looking down, eyes averted.

"I worry about you too," Robbie said, "but I think you would've known better than to go charging in here without telling me where you were." Which reminded him of something. "How'd you find me?"

"I texted you and you didn't answer," James said. "I gave it ten minutes and then tracked your phone."

"I could've been driving."

"No, I set that automatic reply message on your phone for when you're driving," James said.

"You're always doing something with my phone," Robbie grumbled, though he wasn't really upset about it. Half the things he grumbled about didn't matter to him. He just liked the back-and-forth with James.

"And I think today proves that's a good thing," James said. He sighed, looking up and flicking the pocket knife closed. "This is taking longer than I'd like. I wonder if there might be anything sharper in the kitchen."

"Don't." Robbie hadn't meant to say that aloud.

"I'll be careful, but if he's anywhere in the house, he already knows we're here," James said, standing and brushing the dirt from the knees of his trousers.

"I know, but stay a minute? Please?" Robbie was embarrassed to ask, but the truth was, as much as he didn't want James off on his own, he didn't want to be on his own right now either. The gravity of the situation was catching up to him now. He'd been knocked unconscious in pursuit of a murderer, but for whatever reason, he was still alive. And he wanted to stay that way.

James crouched beside the chair. "Tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened. I'm just glad you're here, that's all." That was too much, wasn't it? James would know.

James smiled. "I'm glad I'm here too." He rested a hand on Robbie's arm. "I meant what I said. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Robbie was having a hard time thinking of ways to change the subject. Maybe he had hit his head. "I don't like feeling helpless."

"Of course not. No one does." James half-stood, leaning in to give him a careful hug, and Robbie's stupid, mutinous body chose that moment to start trembling. "It's all right. I'm here."

Robbie closed his eyes. "I know." It was strange to be on the receiving end of caretaking. He'd always been the one reassuring people and keeping them safe. That was how he saw himself. But it was something of a relief to be able to let go of all that for a moment and let James hold him. It was such a relief that it took him longer than usual to notice that James wasn't letting go. "James?"

"Sorry," James said, stepping back.

"No need," Robbie said, resisting the urge to tell James to get back here. "I'm a bit shaky too."

James nodded, taking the pocket knife out of his pocket and turning it over in his hands, fingers precise. Robbie loved watching James's hands. "I take it you know I couldn't do without you."

Robbie couldn't answer. He physically couldn't answer. He'd wanted to hear this so long, and now, unprompted, James had said it as though it was perfectly natural and wouldn't start Robbie's heart pounding.

James glanced at him. "You do know that?"

"I do now," Robbie said. "And you must know--" But he wasn't sure how to say it. All these years, all this time together, and he was supposed to explain what James meant to him in some straightforward way?

James nodded. "I do."

Robbie stared at him. "Do you?"

"You're not the only one with good powers of observation," James said, looking amused.

He knew everything. "But you're still here."

James almost dropped the pocket knife in surprise. "You thought I'd leave if I knew?"

It seemed wrong to admit it, but that was exactly what Robbie had thought. So he didn't say anything.

James slipped the knife into his pocket, resting a hand on Robbie's shoulder and looking into his eyes. "You didn't think I might be waiting for you to tell me?"

Robbie searched James's expression for any sign that he was having a laugh or covering negative feelings, but there was nothing to indicate that. "Were you?"

James nodded and leaned in to kiss Robbie. Robbie closed his eyes and tried to take in every last bit of sensation. He wanted to keep it all.

"Well," James said, pulling out of the kiss but still with his face very close to Robbie's, "that's one less thing to worry about."

Robbie felt strangely at peace. No matter what else happened, he would have this. "I love you."

"I love you too," James said, smiling back. "Come on. Let's get you untied."

"You don't have to do that," Robbie said.

James looked quizzical. "I do if you're driving. I don't think the chair will fit in the car."

"You can stop pretending," Robbie said. "I know you're not James." Best to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Now James looked worried. "As soon as I get you untied, I'll get you to hospital. You might've hit your head, or--"

"Don't you want to know how I worked it out?" Robbie asked. "There were a few warning signs early on. I didn't hear a car door before I heard you calling, and you'd have to drive here. You knew I'd been unconscious when you found me, even though it's possible someone could've overpowered me. And you stopped trying to cut me free pretty early on. But what gave it away is that James doesn't love me. He never has."

James stayed silent.

"Be honest with me, man," Robbie said, feeling a deep disappointment begin to trickle in. "Why did you do it?"

James--or rather, the person pretending to be James--turned his back on Robbie, wandering over to the window. "Have you talked with many dreamshifters?"

"No," Robbie said. He didn't know much about dreamshifters, except that they could change shape sometimes, and the shape-changing usually had something to do with the people around them. And he didn't know why this one would want to pretend to be James, to pretend to--but that was secondary right now. He refused to face that disappointment until later.

"It's different for each of us, but I can tell you what it's like for me. If I touch someone, I can see who they want. I don't see memories, but I can see what they look like, and the things people love about them. If they want them enough, I become that person. When you tripped, I went to check you were breathing. All I did was touch your arm." James gestured to himself. "You wanted him so badly."

Robbie shook his head. "But why pretend to be him?"

"Because that's how it works," James said, facing Robbie. "Even when I don't touch someone, I hear echoes of who they miss or who they're looking for. In a crowd, it's unbearable. All that loneliness and pain. I can't ignore it, though it would be safer if I could. The only way the pain goes away is if I give you what you want. I can feel that too--how happy someone is when I'm who they need."

"Is that what happened with Simon Blythe?" Robbie asked. He was still investigating a murder, after all.

James laughed bitterly. "I bumped into him on the High Street. Literally. He missed his sister so badly he was like you. I changed. And when he saw me, he was so pleased."

"You went home with him." That made sense of the DNA they'd found at the crime scene--recent DNA from Blythe's sister, who'd been dead for years.

"I couldn't think of a way to get out of it, and I can't shift back right away. So yes. I went with him." James looked away, seemingly embarrassed about some aspect of his part in the situation.

"Did you kill him?"

James glared icily at Robbie. "Would you believe me if I said no?"

"I would," Robbie said, meaning every word. "You haven't lied to me so far. Other than about being James. And that's understandable." If he were being chased by police with the wrong idea, Robbie didn't know what he might do to stay safe. He didn't have the benefit of changing shape, but he might lie. It was hard to know what you'd do if you thought you were in enough danger.

James still seemed wary, but a bit less sharp. "How do you know?"

"James has a few things he always does when he's lying," Robbie said. "When you're like this, I'm guessing you would too."

James chuckled. "I knew you were observant when I saw all the things that changed about me. People don't usually remember other people in that much detail."

"Copper," Robbie said with a self-conscious shrug.

"Right." James sighed. "His wife came home and was convinced I had to be some sort of impostor or criminal. She grabbed--well, I didn't see what she grabbed, but she came straight at me with it. Simon pushed me out of the way."

"It was an accident."

"Not that anyone will believe that," James said.

"I do," Robbie said. He'd been unconscious; James--this James--could've killed him then, but he hadn't. He'd made sure Robbie was alive and had tried, in some strange way, to help him. As threats went, he didn't seem to be much of one.

James locked eyes with him. "Then let me go."

"We'll need you as a witness," Robbie said. "All we need to do is find Simon's wife--"

"Who'll say I did it," James said. "And I think you and I both know, of the two of us, who people would believe."

Robbie winced. James was right. "But whatever she used as a weapon would have her fingerprints, not yours. There must be a way to sort this out."

"I only see one," James said, looking grim.

Oh. That sort of way.

"I understand," Robbie said, steeling himself. "Do what you have to do. And--you won't understand this, but thank you. For letting me have that time with James."

James looked miserable. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," Robbie said.

There was a flash of pain, then dark and quiet.


	2. Chapter 2

"Robbie?"

Bloody hell, his head ached. He opened his eyes and found himself lying on his back, still in the house where he'd last awakened. James was bending anxiously over him.

"You didn't quite manage it," Robbie said. "I'm still alive." He closed his eyes for a moment to see if that would make his headache fade, then opened them again when it didn't. "Back for another round?"

"Another round of what?" James asked, looking perplexed.

Robbie sighed. He only had so much patience for being toyed with, and that patience was at an end. "I know you're not James. I remember that from before."

James looked utterly lost. "Before?"

Robbie felt his temper blaze, and he suspected his headache was taking his normal inhibitions with it. "You're really going to pretend you don't remember?"

"I remember you phoned me," James said. "I answered, you whispered where you were, and then hung up. I found you unconscious, untied you, and helped you lie down."

Robbie realized his arms were resting at his sides rather than twisted behind him, and that he wasn't in the chair anymore. "Oh. Cheers."

"Are you all right?" James asked. "It looks like you hit your head."

So James--the other James--hadn't been able to kill him after all. He'd only knocked him unconscious and had called the real James. "Probably I did."

James nodded. "I know better than to ask for an explanation, but if you've got one on offer--"

"The dreamshifter was here," Robbie said, finally starting to relax now that he knew he was talking to proper James. "He's the one who tied me up."

James's eyes widened at that. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. But he looked like you, so when I woke up, I thought you were him."

James frowned, and then he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small bottle.

Robbie took a moment to work out what it was. "Smelling salts?"

"So you can be sure it's me," James said. "Dreamshifters can change their appearance, but they can't create objects from the air. And I don't think the other James would know I carry these."

Robbie chuckled. "Probably not. Never thought I'd be so glad to see smelling salts in me life."

James smiled. "Happy to oblige." Then he looked thoughtful.

"I know what it looks like when you've got a question," Robbie said. "You may as well ask."

"Dreamshifters take the appearance of the person someone most wants to see," James said.

"They do," Robbie said.

James looked pleased. "You wanted to see me?"

Robbie reached out and took James's hand in his. "I always want to see you."

James's cheeks were slightly flushed when he spoke again. "How did you work out that he wasn't me?"

"He kissed me," Robbie said, then wondered if he should've kept that to himself. Never mind. He'd blame it on the headache if he had to.

James smiled. "I think you'll find that's not a disqualifying action."

It took Robbie a few times of running James's words through his head for the full meaning to arrive. "Oh, it's not?"

James bent down and pressed a gentle, barely-there kiss to Robbie's lips. "No."

"I'm going to have to ask you to do that again when I'm feeling a bit more meself," Robbie said.

James laughed. "If you like."

Robbie gave James's hand a squeeze. "Help me up?"

"Of course," James said, helping Robbie stand.

Robbie was a bit off-balance, and standing made his head throb a bit, but he'd felt much worse not that long ago. Cheating death had its own special giddiness to go along with it. He leaned against James to balance himself, which James didn't seem to mind at all.

"You know, you really should see a doctor," James said.

"Not this again," Robbie said, glad James was confident enough in his health that he felt a bit of banter wouldn't be out of place.

"Again? Have you had other head injuries lately?"

"Not that I remember," Robbie deadpanned.

James scoffed. "All the more reason you should go. And as I'm driving, I get the deciding vote."

"All right," Robbie said. He was feeling too good to argue with James. He was even feeling too good for his headache to bother him. James might just love him after all.

If Robbie ever saw that dreamshifter again, he'd have to thank him.


End file.
